


Five Times Uhura and Sulu Dated Before They Realized They Were a Couple

by rabidchild67



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 5 Times, Community: trekmas, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Uhura and Sulu Dated Before They Realized They Were a Couple

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Happy Trekmas story for shiftedsideways, who wanted TOS Uhura/Sulu (though I confess my characterizations are probably more contemporary than they should be)

**1.**

Funny how you find a friend when you’re not looking for one.

They had the same lunch break – 30 minutes commencing at 13:05 precisely – and since they tended to leave the bridge together and arrived in the officers’ mess together, it was just as easy to stand in line at the replicators together and sit together.

They talked about their work: he explained the difficulties of piloting a massive ship around debris fields, she tried to teach him conversational Swahili. They talked about what was happening on-shift – shit no one would believe even if they could share it. Like whenever Kirk’s got a bug up his ass with the Admiralty, or McCoy’s got one about some brave and reckless thing Kirk’s done. The latter was almost always hella fun to discuss ad nauseam – no one threw a hissy fit quite like McCoy, nor with such colorful language. Sometimes bridge duty was scary, and usually it was boring, and no one else quite _got it,_ and anyway, there were unwritten rules about these things – what happened on the bridge stayed on the bridge.

So they talked to each other instead.

One day, though, Uhura headed to lunch alone, and was very surprised to see Sulu waiting for her in the corridor just off the main bridge. “Well, this is a nice surprise Hikaru, but aren’t you supposed to be in your quarters recuperating from your appendectomy?” she chided him gently. 

He rolled his eyes. “McCoy’s such a pill,” he complained. “I was fit for duty two days ago. Anyway, I missed having our daily lunches, so here I am.” 

“I’m glad for the company – Evans is a horrible conversationalist,” she replied, referring to his temporary replacement from Beta shift. 

“Nice to know I’m not missed.” He turned and held his elbow out in an old-fashioned gesture; she slid her hand into the space there and they headed for the officers’ mess, gossiping happily about the upcoming Deltan delegation they’d be transporting to a diplomatic summit.

**2.**

Sulu was late. 

He’d allowed himself to dally over his Arcturan tuberose cuttings, and it was Movie Night, and he was late.

Movie Night was a long-standing tradition among the bridge crew and a few other close friends. It originally started because Chekov had, improbably, never seen the original _Star Wars._ From there it evolved into a regular occasion every other Thursday evening. The rule was that the last person to arrive had to buy the beer for the next one, and Sulu didn’t want to be last, not again – that would make it three times this year already.

When he got to the officer’s lounge on Deck 4, he was surprised to see only Nyota sitting there. She had a PADD in her lap and was checking her messages. “Thank God,” she said, looking up at him and smiling, “I was beginning to think I’d be the only one watching this movie, and that’s just sad.”

“Is it just us?” he asked, looking around.

She nodded. “I think Kirk and Spock have staffing reviews to go over, and a sudden rash of Denobian flu’s got Len and Christine held up down in sickbay.”

“And Pav?”

“He says he doesn’t want to see this one.”

“ _The Princess Bride_? I got the original – it’s a classic!”

She rolled her eyes. “He says it’s a kissing movie and he doesn’t like kissing movies.”

“What?! He made me go with him to see _La Boheme_ on Rigel – I hate opera!”

She laughed. “My theory is that he doesn’t like happy endings.”

“Russians!” Sulu sighed and flopped down onto the couch beside her. 

“You want to watch it anyway?”

“With you?” He smiled. “Always.”

\----

“Have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?”

Sulu eyed Uhura as she recited lines from the film. “Yes?” 

“Morons.”

He grinned at her and delivered the next line in time with the on-screen Man In Black, “Really. In that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits.”

“For the princess?” 

Uhura nodded. 

“To the death?” 

She raised her eyebrows. 

“I accept.”

She giggled. “This is the best scene in the entire movie.”

“You think so?”

“Well, I mean you learn things, right? Such as the futility of a land war in Asia, and never to go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line.”

“I dunno, my favorite scene is when Inigo finally kills Count Rugen. The emotion there, it’s so raw – ‘I want my father back, you son of a bitch.’ Gives me chills every time.”

“I like the fact that Westley won’t actually go there.”

“It’s not like he can,” Sulu pointed out.

“True, but the writers could’ve had it happen anyway – it was their story to do with as they chose.”

“It _was_ a book, you know.”

“Oh, and Hollywood never changes the endings of _anything_ do they?” she chided. “No, I think it’s a really powerful thing. I mean, the prince kind of wins, doesn’t he? He might not get the girl –“

“Not that he ever really wanted her,” Sulu pointed out.

“True. And his plans for war with Florin were thwarted, but he’s still going to be the supreme monarch of this country pretty soon. Still, he not only has to live with the knowledge that he’s a coward, but also that Westley and Buttercup know it too. Because let’s face it, no one but the three of them knows what went down in that room. It’s such a great twist, I almost can’t handle it.”

He looked at her for a moment, marveling at her passion for the material, her intensity. “Too bad Pav missed out – I think this movie is more Russian than he thinks.”

 

**3.**

“You’re canceling _now_? I’ve had these tickets for weeks, Pav!”

“I know, Hikaru, and I am sorry, but Mr. Spock said I could assist him in the microbiology lab, and it is an opportunity I can’t pass up.”

Sulu looked at his best friend like he’d grown an additional head. “It’s shore leave, Pav. On Vega5. Show girls. Gambling.” He tried waggling his eyebrows, but it did him little good in the face of an offer for Pavel to assist Spock – the kid’s hero worship was endearing only when it didn’t inconvenience Sulu.

Pavel was already heading for the door of the Transporter Room. “Sorry, Karu – sorry!” he called behind him as he made a hasty retreat.

Sulu groaned, his fists clenched at his sides; he may have hopped up and down a little in frustration.

“Something wrong?” said a familiar voice.

He opened his eyes and looked over at Nyota, his cheeks turning red because he was sure she’d seen his less than dignified outburst. “I’ve got two tickets for the zero-grav fencing tournament planetside, and Pavel just backed out on me. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”

“So what – just go without him.”

He gave her a look. “Going to a sports event alone is even sadder than dining alone.”

“I dine alone all the time – it’s liberating.”

He gave her a sad look. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Come on!” she protested, smacking his upper arm. 

“Ouch! Ugh – I guess I’ll just go drown my sorrows at the blackjack tables then.”

“What? Don’t do that.”

“Why? You want to come with me instead?”

“No – you’re the world’s worst blackjack player.” She laughed at the poisonous look he gave her, but then continued, “You know what – yes, I’d love to go to the tournament with you.”

“Didn’t you have plans with Christine?”

She waved her hand through the air. “I did but then her fiancé called over subspace, so I don’t know when I’ll see her again.”

“You really want to go with me?”

“Would I offer if I didn’t? Anyway – you owe me now, which means you get to take me to that Vulcan-Andorian fusion restaurant at the Royal Palace Hotel.”

“I knew there was a catch,” he said with a mock-groan.

\----

“I’m still not sure that can be called fencing if they can barely get near each other,” Nyota said. She and Sulu were walking back to the Transporter Center to beam back up to the ship.

“And I’m not sure you could call what we just ate ‘cuisine.’”

“What? It was delicious!”

“It’s burning holes in my gut.”

“That’s what the yogurt sauce was for – to quench the heat.”

“There was no way I was eating that. One should not consume dairy products procured from a sentient being.”

“I’ll tell that to the next infant I encounter.”

Perhaps it was all the wine he’d drunk, but he found that statement hysterically funny.

“Jesus, breathe,” Nyota said to him with mock seriousness. “McCoy’ll kill me if you hyperventilate and die.”

He gulped in some air and eventually calmed himself. “Seriously though, that food was way too spicy.”

“You’re such a wimp. You wouldn’t last a day at my auntie’s house – her goat _wat_ is world famous!”

“Goat what?”

“Oh my God, you call yourself an intergalactic traveler and you’ve never had goat? I’m embarrassed to be seen with you!” She pushed him away with her hands, playfully. 

He mock-stumbled, then kept on going into the street. “What are you – trying to kill me? I could be run over by a huge hovertruck or something.”

She looked around at the total lack of traffic – it was quite late – and settled her hands on her hips. “Oh yes, I’m most definitely trying to bump you off. I’ve got dibs on your cabin – it’s a full two feet wider than mine.”

“I knew it,” he said, pointing at her accusingly. He began to walk again, backwards in the street; pulling out his communicator, he pretended to speak into it, “Sulu to Enterprise – one to beam directly to the brig.”

She started walking again too. “You would turn me in?”

“For attempted murder?” he said. “You betcha.”

She folded her hands beneath her chin and batted her eyelashes at him. “I could never,” she said.

“What is it they say - we only hurt the ones we love?” 

He stopped walking and she did too, once she’d caught up to him. The way the moonlight shone on her face made her skin seem like it glowed; the way she’d worn her hair down tonight – not at all like the intricate hairstyle she usually favored – made her look about ten years too young for him. “Um…” words failed him. 

She cocked her head to the side then laid her hand in the middle of his chest, over his heart. “You want me to hurt you?” she asked, all playfulness out of her voice.

“Will you be gentle with me?” he asked, his voice cracking on the last two words.

She laughed up at him, a full belly laugh with her head thrown back, and the spell was broken. “Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You wish!” she said as she started walking again.

 

 **4.**

Nyota paused in her digging when she heard a faint rustling behind her that was suddenly cut short. Closing her eyes regretfully, she sighed and finished digging up the yam-like tuber she’d been working on freeing from the moist soil. When she’d finished, she stood and wiped her hands on her uniform before going to check on the snare trap she’d set nearby. 

She’d caught one of the little ground-feeding birds that were indigenous to this planet – they reminded her of partridges – and thankfully the thing was already dead. Removing it and then resetting the trap, she made her way back to the cave.

“Honey, I’m home!” she called out with as much cheer as she could muster. She made her way to the back where Hikaru was seated atop the bedding of long grasses and leaves she’d gathered. He was pale and sweaty, much worse than when she’d left him.

“Good day at the office dear?” came the eventual reply.

“Pretty productive,” she said, frowning at him. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was trembling. She washed her hands from a water bottle then crouched down beside him and pulled aside the reflective emergency blanket that covered his lower extremities. She only barely suppressed a gasp as she saw that his bandages – or rather the remainder of her jacket that she’d torn up that morning for that purpose – were soaked with blood. He flinched as she pulled them aside, and she bowed her head as she saw how red and swollen the long gash on his thigh had gotten. “Oh, Hikaru,” she breathed. “What happened?”

“Oh, I went shopping with Madge and you know how she gets,” he bit out, keeping the inane 1950’s sitcom banter going.

She discarded the bandages and went to retrieve the water bottle and some clean cloths, then began dabbing at the wound to keep it clean. “What did you _do_?” she persisted.

“I got sick and tired of just sitting here while you did everything – ah! Christ that hurts!” He flinched away again and she waited until he’d calmed and gestured for her to continue. “I thought I could at least gather some firewood or something.”

“And you ripped it open?” He nodded. “McCoy is going to lecture you to death, you know.” Done with cleaning his wound, she covered it again with some more of the makeshift bandages and tied them off. “You know I can handle all this,” she reminded him.

“I know you can – I just had to help.”

She sat back on her heels and stared at him until he looked away. “That was really ill-advised, _hon_ ,” she said as lightly as her worry would allow her, then paused a beat. “You know the big boss is coming over here for dinner tonight!”

“Oh no! We’re out of vermouth!” he wailed, and she couldn’t help but smile.

\----

“Hey, Karu,” she said in a low voice, gently shaking him awake, “hungry?”

He opened his eyes, looking startled for a moment before he focused on her. “Starved.”

Frankly, he looked queasy, but Nyota wasn’t about to call him on it. She sat down beside him and shared out the food. The yam-thing, when roasted, was pretty filling, and the groundfowl was small but at least it was protein. They had to eat with their hands, but if she squinted it was almost like they were on a picnic.

“Very tasty,” Sulu commented. “Thanks for making me dinner.”

She pushed her hair out of her eyes and handed him a drumstick. “It’s actually kind of nice to be able to do it – I used to love to cook back home. It’s very therapeutic.”

“My grandfather was a sushi chef,” Sulu said. “He taught me how to make hand rolls when I was a kid.”

“Really? You’ll have to teach me when we get back.”

“If we get back,” he said darkly.

“Don’t say that – they’ll find us sooner than you know it.” 

As part of a public/private pilot program, the two of them had been lent out to a planetary survey firm to evaluate the Class M planet they were on for future exploration and settlement. Uhura and Sulu got separated from the main group during an electrical storm and left behind in this place, and had yet to hear from anyone after their company-issued communicators failed. It wouldn’t have been much more than an inconveniently impromptu camping trip – Enterprise would be back to pick them up in a week – until Hikaru fell into a gully and injured his leg. 

“I didn’t get a very confident vibe off that team leader, what’s his name,” Sulu groused.

“Hsu? I will allow he was a bit of a cocky jerk, but you know how those terraforming guys are – think they’re space cowboys.”

“Space assholes more like,” Sulu muttered.

“Don’t frown like that, your skin will wrinkle.”

“Sorry – my leg just hurts.”

“Oh,” she moued and set the rest of her food down. She then shifted closer and slung her arm around his shoulders comfortingly. After a few seconds, she began to hum, and then to sing.

_“Quando me'n vo'  
Quando me'n vo' soletta per la via,  
la gente sosta e mira,  
e la bellezza mia tutta ricerca in me,  
ricerca in me  
Da capo a' piè.” _

“Wait a minute,” Sulu interrupted her. “What was that?”

“Musetta’s Waltz, from _La Boheme_.”

“You can _sing_?!”

“I can sing opera.”

“How did I not know this?”

“I know how much you hate opera.” 

He laughed. “My words have come back to haunt me. But you’re really, really _good_!”

“Thank you – my teachers thought so too. And my mother.”

He winced as he shifted in his seat, but he turned to look at her. “Why aren’t you doing it professionally, then? I mean, not that I have much knowledge about these things, but that was amazing.”

She laughed, pleased. “I studied since I was a girl, and I loved it – the old Italian ones, especially. The language was like a puzzle to me – always a double and triple meaning. Then one day, the _Opera Troupe of Shi’kahr_ came to our school and I heard my first Vulcan opera, and it was – “ 

“Logical?” Sulu asked.

“Ha-ha, yes, but also profoundly moving in an odd way. Vulcan music takes some getting used to, but the language just fascinated me; there is this formality to it, but also an economy of phrasing. I needed to learn more, and I found it incredibly easy to pick up. I’d always had a great facility with languages – helps your performance if you actually understand the libretto and aren’t just sounding out the words, you know? Learning Vulcan led me to try to pick up some Romulan, then some Andorian, and before I knew it, I’d figured out that my true passion was actually languages. Then I joined Starfleet.”

He regarded her silently for a moment. “You, Nyota Uhura, are a woman of great mystery,” he pronounced, his voice deep and rich.

She shivered suddenly – she’d never noticed that quality in his voice before. 

“It makes me wonder what other talents you’re hiding from me,” he added.

She wanted to call him on the cheesiness of the line, but something about the way he delivered it made something soften and warm up inside her, because he legitimately wanted to know. Impulsively, she rested her left hand on his shoulder. He reached for her, caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. 

“Hikaru,” she whispered, leaning into his touch.

“Nyota.” Her name on his lips sounded like a prayer.

“Fascinating.”

“Commander Spock!” Nyota exclaimed, pushing herself away from Sulu more roughly than she ought to have, but the Vulcan’s sudden appearance had shocked the hell out of her.

He was, predictably, unaffected by her obvious surprise, and looked down at the tricorder he held instead. “There are pockets of dilithium throughout this cavern – this was not included on the original specifications.”

Nyota and Hikaru looked at him with their mouths hanging open. 

“Ah - you are surprised to see me here sooner than our agreed-upon return,” he deduced. “One day ago, when the Captain inquired after your progress with the planetary survey team and they were suspiciously dissembling in their response, he thought it prudent that we should cut our time at the diplomatic convening short and look into your status in person. Mr. Hsu seemed less worried about your whereabouts than maintaining his schedule. The Captain saw fit to… assist him with the reassessment of his priorities.” He looked up at them, an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll bet he socked him on the jaw,” Sulu said. “Did he sock him on the jaw?”

“To answer you in the affirmative when you know the answer to be thus would be illogical. You are injured,” Spock observed. “I will summon a medical team immediately.”

He made his way back to the mouth of the cave and Nyota looked back at Sulu. “Thank God they came for us early, huh? Otherwise there’s no telling what might have happened.”

“Yep. No telling.”

 

**5.**

Sulu stepped out of the shopping mall section of Starbase 12 with a scowl on his face; he knew they were at the ass-end of the galaxy, but fifty credits was _still_ too much for a hand-blown glass bird on any planet. He would just have to come up with a Plan B for his mom’s birthday present. He was just walking across the grass that surrounded the arboretum when he spotted a familiar figure seated on a park bench nearby.

“Lieutenant Uhura, what a lovely surprise,” he said once he’d gotten closer, but one look at her face and he knew it probably wasn’t a lovely surprise for her. She looked up at him with reddened eyes, a sodden tissue held to her nose, and she’d clearly been crying. “What happened? I thought you had a date with Lieutenant Yum-Yum?”

“Lieutenant _Yonge,_ ” she corrected, but couldn’t help a smile at his joke. “I did.”

“I guess it didn’t end well if you’re crying,” he pointed out. He also looked around the general vicinity – if that asshole Yonge was still around, he’d be feeling some righteous wrath – nothing awakened his atavistic, protective-caveman persona more than seeing someone cry.

“It ended fine,” she sniffled.

Sulu reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief, then sat down. “Then why are you crying?” He handed her the hanky.

“He asked me if I wanted to get married.”

“What?! You barely know the guy!”

“No, not like that. We were talking about life goals and plans, and I told him about my five-seven-ten plan.” Nyota’s plan for the next five, seven, and ten years of her career was so closely considered, her execution plan for it so meticulously thought-out, Federation process and planning professionals could learn a thing or two. At the end of it, she would be the head of Starfleet Communications, and Sulu was confident there would be no stopping her.

“OK? So? He didn’t think your goals were realistic enough or something?”

“No. He asked whether or not I’d considered family in the plan.”

“I’m not sure what your parents have to do with it.”

“That’s what I said! But he was talking about… about _starting a family._ Like, _husband and children_ family.”

“Oh.” 

“And I told him no, because that wasn’t really relevant or even something I necessarily needed or wanted. And he looked really _pitying,_ and _sad for me_ , like there was something wrong with focusing on my career first and foremost. But he didn’t say anything, he just made this little condescendingly moany sound, like, ‘errrrrhm.’” 

Her voice raised an octave as she imitated the man; it was the kind of sound you’d make at a sad little puppy, and Hikaru was outraged on her behalf. “What an asshole.”

“Yeah, well. Yeah.”

He slid closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer. 

“Why can’t I just find a man interested in supporting me in my life, as much as I support him in his?” she asked, gesturing with both her hands. 

“One who gets all your jokes,” he added.

“Yes. And who understands what it’s like to be on that bridge, why we’re all so _devoted to it,_ and to each other.”

“It’s like the baddest-ass fraternity/sorority ever.” 

She slid her arms around his torso. “Band of brothers.”

“And sisters,” he added.

She craned her head back to look at him. “Yeah.”

He looked down at her. “Yeah.”

They looked at each other for what seemed like an hour but was probably only a few seconds; all Hikaru knew was that he could actually _feel_ his heart in his throat. He swallowed. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he informed her.

“Please do.”

Her lips were soft, her breath sweet, and kissing her was like getting the best present ever and coming home after a long absence all at once. She sighed, opening her mouth to him, her body molding itself against his like they fit, like two halves of those corny BFF pendants his sister had when they were kids. He slid his hand down to the small of her back, with his other he cradled the back of her head, and her hand on his face felt like it was branding him.

When they parted, he drew a shuddering breath and said, “Oh myyy.”

She rested her forehead against his and smiled. “No kidding.” 

“That was very nice.”

“And stupid,” she added.

He pulled away, disappointed. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m sitting here whinging about not finding the perfect man, and I’ve had you in my life all along.”

He smiled at her sheepishly and relaxed. “Oh. So, are we a thing now?” 

“I think maybe we have been for a while.”

“No. Really?” 

She nodded.

He thought back on their friendship – all the lunches and movie nights, planning their shore leaves so they’d always be planetside at the same time, the fact they finished each other’s sentences half the time.

“Huh – who knew?”

“Not us, clearly,” she laughed and kissed him again. 

\----

Thank you for your time.

You can also find me on Tumblr @rabidchild67, I hope you'll consider following me there.


End file.
